


letter of warm feelings

by endlessgold



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Letters, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessgold/pseuds/endlessgold
Summary: He finally gets the courage to write down all the things distance can't let him say.
Kudos: 2





	letter of warm feelings

It had taken a great deal of time for Ryuu to work up the courage to simply write.   
  
It was strange, how a man who fought monsters could be intimidated by pen and paper. No... It wasn't the letter itself that bothered him. It was the recipient.   
  
He knew that anyone in that situation was emotionally volatile. If he made the wrong choice of words, he could do long lasting damage on what is undoubtedly already beginning to crack.   
  
Even so... Not trying at all would do much more harm than saying the wrong thing. So, with hesitance, Ryuu Akiyama began to write.   
  
_Dear Hibiki,  
  
It would probably be appropriate to say something like ‘I hope you're well’, but I know that you probably aren't. Even if you think that you are— even if you think that things are better now— they aren't.   
  
Things never do get better in that place. Some days you may be able to smile or even laugh, but that doesn't mean things are any less cruel. It just means that you're becoming stronger. Which is both a blessing and a terrible curse.   
  
Sorry, being a downer at the beginning of a letter probably isn't a good idea.   
  
My name is Ryuu. I'm your big brother. I like to cook and I practice kendo, but I don't take it seriously at all. I once lived under the same roof that you're under now. I once bore all the burdens that you do. And, by some miracle, I was granted a way out.   
  
I should have been happy to leave. I know, I should be thankful to have a new caretaker who loves me. But I can't turn away from the aching feeling that I've lost something.   
  
I've lost you. The child I've never met before.   
  
Some nights I wonder if I really do love you. After all, I have no idea what your personality is like or what your interests are. There's no foundation upon which to base my love. I worry that instead of loving you, I love a false version of you that my brain has constructed to cope with your absence. I worry that, in turn, I will one day force you to become someone you're not to satisfy that desire.   
  
And then I dream.   
  
I dream of a small figure without any identifying features. He is nothing more than the shape of a human child made out of a bright, white light. He doesn't talk or smile or laugh or acknowledge that I'm there at all.   
  
But in those dreams, I love him every single time.   
  
So, I'm certain that no matter who you end up to be— I will love you.   
  
I write this in the waking world. That figure isn't beside me— he's in that far away place that I now only see in bad memories. It's lonely without that figure. Whenever I'm awake, I find myself missing him.   
  
I want to cradle him tightly in my arms and tell him “Don’t worry, it's okay.”  
  
But even in my dreams, I never do that. Because it's not okay. Nothing that you are going through can ever be justified as okay, whether I'm there with you or not.   
  
Maybe things will be okay one day, though. I should warn you, though— being ‘okay’ isn't that fun at all. When I first moved, I remember my caretaker said those same words to me.   
  
“It’s okay now.”  
  
At that time, I thought she was a liar. I was a shattered version of a child, broken by those who were supposed to love me. How could that thing be ‘okay’?   
  
Being okay isn't a paradise. It's being able to push forward. It's being able to live your life safely. It's being able to love and accept love. Even if you feel like you're falling to pieces, as long as you're able to continue living— you're okay.   
  
Things may not be okay now. But they will be later. They may not be great, but they will be okay. And you will survive.   
  
I spoke about being broken just now, and I should tell you that’s a feeling of the past. I am not broken. I am a human being, alive— complete with a beating heart. It's impossible for that to be broken.   
  
They may tell you that you're broken. Inadequate. A failure. Anything along those lines.   
  
So I'll tell you this.   
  
It's impossible for children to be flawed.   
  
I often pass by children just getting out of school on my way to work. I see them tumble around, laugh, and talk about things that I can't understand. I see them smiling and getting into trouble and being scolded.   
  
And every time I see them, I remember that there isn't a single child on this planet who isn't absolutely perfect.   
  
You are a bundle of innocence and love. I'm sure that they will try to convince you that you aren't— but it's because they've been so tainted by evilness that they can't fathom that a single being can be so perfect. Every word of vitriol that they spit out at you... It's nothing more than the words of monsters trying to convince you that you're a monster too.   
  
Even so, you probably still love them.   
  
It would be no surprise if you did love them. You're so perfect that there's no room left in your heart for hate, after all. And loving them is okay. You can love them or hate them or feel nothing at all, and there wouldn't be anything wrong with it.   
  
The bottom line is this— it doesn't matter how you feel about them, their job is to keep you safe. If they have failed to keep you safe, you must do the hard thing and recognize that they are no longer your parents.   
  
Parents are supposed to love and protect. When they purposefully fail to do that, they lose their qualifications of being a parent.   
  
And, one day the time will come where you will be separated from them. I know because that day is being carefully orchestrated as I write this. When that happens, you have to be brave and acknowledge that you need help.   
  
Acknowledging that you need help is the bravest thing a person can do.   
  
And I know you can do it. Because you're perfect.   
  
My life lessons are beginning to drag on and I know you'd rather hear something more heartwarming from me, but I struggle with being happy. I hope you can understand that.   
  
Even if I can't show you happiness now, I'll wait patiently for the day we can smile at each other.   
  
Please, live until that day comes.   
  
Your brother,  
Ryuu_  
  
He sighs and folds the letter into an envelope. He started writing in the late evening, and night quickly crept into his room.   
  
He wouldn't be able to pass it on for delivery that night. If the letter was to be delivered, it would have to wait until the morning.   
  
He carefully hid the letter under his mattress and got ready for bed.   
  
In the end, he never delivered that letter. He couldn't find the courage to. Not because he didn't want Hibiki to see what he had written— but because the act of sending the letter was a risk in of itself.   
  
Every second the letter was spent in delivery would increase the risk of it being lost— especially when it got to his former home. He could easily imagine his parents disposing of the letter and pretend it didn't exist. Or worse, take their frustrations out on that child.   
  
So, he decided to hang onto it. One day, when they meet, he'll give Hibiki that letter.   
  
Please, live until that day comes. 


End file.
